Many in the American Jewish community live in fear. That fear is real. That fear is debilitating. That fear began before October 7th, but since October 7th, the fear has grown, changed, and taken on new, more severe dimensions.
Fear is multifaceted: it is both a collective fear and a personal fear.
As schools, synagogues and Jewish organizations plan programs, trips, activities and large community events, they are thinking specifically about the safety of their facilities, students and members. Parents ask questions they’ve never asked before and never imagined they would need to ask: How safe is this program? Is it safe to attend? What security measures are in place?
Most dramatically, parents are wondering whether their children, and themselves, should outwardly display the Jewish identity they once wore so proudly and casually. Should we still wear in public the Star of David necklace given to us by loving grandparents as a graduation gift? Should we wear baseball caps in place of kippahs in public? Should our ceremonial fringes be tucked in and left hanging for all to see? Should our clothing become less obviously Jewish?
This fear had been simmering beneath the surface, erupting as a result of the campus encampments that condoned the Hamas massacre on October 7. Rallies across the United States in support of murderers, rapists and baby-killers attracted those once considered friendly classmates, neighbors and co-workers, and sparked fear in Jews across America.
Psychologically, fear is a perceived threat. It doesn’t have to be real; it’s the perception that counts. That’s why many students found it difficult to concentrate and study when they found a pro-Hamas encampment on campus. Jewish students were exposed to violent anti-Semitic attitudes for the first time and felt fear. They heard screams, saw posters, and witnessed pro-Hamas demonstrators calling for their own and their families’ deaths.
Living in fear is debilitating. It saps your energy and creativity. It makes it nearly impossible to make sophisticated and nuanced decisions. In a state of fear, the normal psychological response is fight or flight.
More bold anti-Semitic attacks
In recent weeks, as attacks in the heart of New York’s Jewish neighborhoods have grown bolder, many have reached out to me for advice about safety and fear.
Indeed, I explain, Jews have become blatant targets these days. One of Hamas’s nasty successes on October 7th was to give fuel to Jew-haters. Like Hamas, Jew-haters have become emboldened. They are occupying buildings. They are painting graffiti and defacing buildings. They are burning and trampling the blue-and-white Israeli flag. They are blocking traffic and preventing public passage. They are shouting threats and posting them online. And they are doing all this, almost always with impunity.
The Hamas massacre on October 7th gave voice to some of the most vile, anti-democratic and anti-American tropes, a list that also includes deep-seated anti-Semitic hatred.
This must change. There must be some kind of penalty on campus, at the city, state, and federal level for violating laws and policies.
I explain to people that this should be a teaching moment for Jewish people and for those who love Israel, and that despite the threats, we must remain proud of Judaism and Israel.
We know that Israel is fighting a defensive war. We know that nuance has disappeared, replaced by a strange mix of pro-Hamas and pro-Palestinian rhetoric, and we know that their messaging is all pro-Hamas. We must remain strong and firm as the two-state solution evolves into their solution: a state without Israel.
We must embrace who we are as Jews and lovers of Israel. With that pride, we must stand firm in the face of real and perceived threats, take back our campuses, and restore true justice for our quiet masses. We must return to normalcy, to a place where the rights of our students and the rights of all Jews are protected.
It has to be done. Star of David necklaces can be hidden in clothing, but the “dog tag” necklaces worn by those kidnapped by Hamas cannot. These necklaces are worn boldly as symbols of Jewish pride and identity. It is a secret language spoken quietly by those who love Israel, a symbol of understanding and recognition.
Israel is a nation of builders and creators, and just as the State of Israel is now being rebuilt, so too must the Jews and those who love Israel who are outside the borders of the Land of Israel.
This is not an easy task, but it is essential, and in spite of the pain and the fear, it must be done, and because of that effort, our tomorrows will be better, our days will be brighter.
The author is a social and political commentator. See his television show, “Thinking Out Loud,” on the Jewish Broadcasting Service.
